While Sasuke looked his usual, aloof self, Naruto's face conveyed hope and just a hint of concern. But because of her natural tendency toward secrecy and respect for her own private life, people thought she was less experienced than she really was. She needed a scratch, so bad. But he had just done that, and this strange feeling was still there. Sakura fumbled with his pants, and he motioned for her to lift upwards. Her eyelids had fluttered closed, and Sakura pushed the pants off her hips. They were both so popular at school that one bad word out of her mouth would send an army of fan girls to her house with pitchforks and flame torches. And despite how horny this unusual heatwave in Konoha had made her feel, she still valued relationships more than sex. Sitting on the lounge chair on the front patio of her house, she was shaded, but hot, and very aware of the man hunk across the road. Sakura keened, trying both to get away and get closer at the same time. She cleared her throat. Okay, he was falling for her, but these emotions were still confusing to him. Sweat dripped from Sasuke's forehead onto hers, and she smiled. He forgot that Naruto was coming over. Still, in some small, twisted way, that inner voice of hers was right. She gave him permission to remove her bra, and then as Naruto lowered his lips to her hardened nipples, she shifted her right leg to indicate without words for Sasuke to move. They didn't seem to want to move either, both still resting inside of her.